Beautiful Killer
by impossibleboy1990
Summary: 13 thrilling adventures featuring the Twelfth Doctor, Clara, and Veronica.


Doctor Who: Beautiful Killer

Chapter One

Ides of March

"Give me the sonic!" Clara Oswald shouted, eyes wide in fear.

She was trapped in a corner of a dark, dank cave. She had been in the middle of teaching her class, when suddenly, the Doctor had burst into the classroom, eyes wild and eyebrows on the attack. He'd hurried her off to the supply cupboard, where the TARDIS was parked.

The Doctor had whisked her off to some cave on a distant, alien planet. Everything had gone well, until they'd awoken the cave's inhabitant: a giant, hungry, angry bat.

The bat now had Clara backed up against the wall and was slowly moving toward her on its hind legs. Its mouth was open, revealing sharp teeth, dripping with saliva. It's eyes glowed red in the near-darkness of the cave.

Clara swallowed her fear. She had been in worse scrapes than this. The dream crabs at Christmas time had been creep enough, not to mention the Silence, and the Mummy on the Orient Express. She was no stranger to danger. And she was not some poor, helpless damsel in distress. If only the Doctor would throw her the bloody sonic!

"Doctor!" Clara cried. Why did he never listen?

The Doctor was busy trying to shoo the bat away by yelling at it. "Get! Go on, you big ugly rat!"

"Not helping!" Clara pointed out as the bat opened its jowls wider and emitted a sharp, piercing, cross-sounding shriek at her.

"You don't want her," the Doctor coaxed. "She's short and has a funny nose. Plus she's bossy. I have more meat on my bones."

"Oi!" Clara stamped her foot in annoyance. "Throw me the sonic!"

"Why…?" The Doctor's face lit up in understanding. Of course, the sonic screwdriver. "Here!"

The sonic screwdriver sailed through the air toward her. Due to her lack of height, Clara jumped into the air to snag it.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she had the sonic pointed at the bat and she pressed the trigger.

The sonic warbled, its shrill sound like nails on a chalkboard.

The bat shrieked, its face contorting into a mask of pain as its sensitive ear drums were assaulted.

"How you like that?" Clara challenged, grinning. She was no victim.

The bat screeched again and started to fall back. Clara pursued. "Not so nasty now, are ya?" she taunted.

In response, the bat reared back and spewed a mucousy substance at her. She registered the assault too late and was hit square in the face with the viscous fluid.

"Oh, God," Clara cried, dry heaving as the smell invaded her nostrils. It smelt like rotting meat. "Brush your teeth once in awhile, yeah?"

Clara set the sonic off again and the bat backed off. Seizing her opportunity, she ducked under its flailing, leathery wings and met up with the Doctor. "TARDIS," the Doctor said, grabbing her hand securely in his.

"Let's."

They dashed back through the winding, serpentine tunnels of the cavern. "You do know where you parked the TARDIS?" Clara asked, looking behind her to see that the bat was slowly giving chase.

"Of course," the Doctor replied in his strong Scottish accent.

"Do you really, or are having me on?"

"It's my TARDIS, Clara, I know where she is at all times."

"You get us lost and you're going to have more than a lost TARDIS on your hands. You're going to have one very cross Impossible Girl."

"Is there any other kind?" the Doctor teased, flashing her a grin that was all teeth.

They rounded a corner and there, in all her dark blue glory was the TARDIS; the Doctor and Clara's time travelling space ship.

To an unknowing passerby, the TARDIS – short for Time and Relative Dimension in Space – would appear as a 1950s Police Public Call Box. Only those lucky enough to be invited inside knew the truth and got to behold the wonders. Not only was the TARDIS a space ship that could travel in time and space, it was bigger on the inside, the product of Time Lord technology – the Doctor's race of people.

The Doctor ran to the TARDIS and stopped, fishing in his jacket pocket. His brows knit in confusion. "Where is it?" he murmured.

"You lost the TARDIS key?" Clara asked, nearly out of breath.

"Not lost. Misplaced." The Doctor dug in his pockets pulling out an assortment of odd items. A really long scarf, a cricket ball, a fancy fob watch, a banana, a fez…all tokens of his past incarnations.

The Doctor was a Time Lord, an ancient race of humanoid aliens with two hearts. Time Lords possessed the ability to regenerate when they were gravely wounded, changing their face and personality each time. Typically, a Time Lord was granted twelve regenerations. The Doctor was on his fourteenth regeneration now. His eighth incarnation had regenerated into a forgotten version of the Doctor known as the War Doctor; the Tenth incarnation has regenerated, but retained his face.

"Hurry!" Clara urged, looking again at the approaching bat. It was coming closer, and from the way its wings were flapping furiously it was very, very cross.

"I'm trying!" The Doctor continued to fumble around in his voluminous pockets. It didn't help that his pockets also ran on Time Lord technology and like the TARDIS, were bigger on the inside.

"It's coming!" Clara was properly scared now. The sonic screwdriver had done nothing save aggravate the bat. It wouldn't let her get away this time.

"Got it!"

The Doctor pulled the key from his pocket with a triumphant grin. He slid the key into the lock and turned.

Clara pushed him inside and slammed the door just as the bat lunged for her. It bounced off the wooden shell of the TARDIS.

"That was close," Clara noted, wiping a hand across her sweaty brow. "Ugh! I've got to get back to class. How am I supposed to teach when I'm covered in…something I'd rather not think about!"

"Time machine, Clara," the Doctor reminded her as he took his usual spot at the TARDIS console. "Go grab a shower, swing by the wardrobe, and pick out new clothes."

"Right, right," Clara whispered, calming down. "I'll go take a shower."

"I'll have you back ten seconds after we left, I promise!"

Clara nodded her head and handed the Doctor back his sonic screwdriver. "You know, I think it's time you gave me a sonic screwdriver of my own. I'm tired of always having to borrow yours," she said, grinning impishly.

"You want your own sonic screwdriver?" the Doctor asked, amused.

"I mean I don't want a sonic _screwdriver _per se. Not much good to me."

"Sarah Jane has sonic lipstick."

"No, thanks. " Clara shook her head.

"What, then?"

"I dunno. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

With that, Clara bounced off to go take a shower.

"Maybe for Christmas," the Doctor muttered under his breath.

Clara stepped out of the TARDIS, smoothing the creases on her skirt.

She had been wearing a colorful sweater with black trousers, but had opted for a white blouse with a navy blue skirt and black leggings. Surely none of the kids would notice.

She peered back at the Doctor, who had come to the door to say goodbye. "How do I look?" she asked, spinning around so he could see her back.

"Don't ask me, I don't pay any attention. I hadn't even noticed you'd changed.

"Gee, thanks. You're such a charmer." Clara rolled her eyes. "I'll see ya later, then. Back to my job."

The Doctor nodded. "Goodbye, Clara."

"Don't say goodbye, it sounds so…final."

"Later, Clara." The Doctor's wizened face scrunched up in disgust at the use of modern slang.

"That's more like it."

Clara opened the door of the supply cupboard and heard the familiar _vworp vworp _of the TARDIS engines.

Walking down the corridor, she came to her classroom. Before entering, she took a deep breath. _No one will notice, _she told herself.

At the sound of the door opening, the students all looked up in curiosity. Clara cleared her throat. "Doing your reading? What kind of kids are you? When the teacher's gone, you should be having fun."

"Ummm…Miss Oswald," a boy asked, eying her in confusion.

"Yes, Thomas?"

"What happened to your clothes?"

"My clothes….?" _Damn! _

"You weren't wearing that before," a girl in the front row, Gemma joined in.

"Yes….good eye." Clara chuckled sarcastically. "I um, had an accident."

"In the supply cupboard?"

"I erm, dropped some paint on myself."

"Were you snogging the Caretaker, Miss?" a cheeky boy called Alistair asked.

"No, I was not snogging the Caretaker."

The year before, the Doctor had posed as Mr. Smith, the Caretaker of Coal Hill to investigate some mysterious goings on. The kids still had not gotten it out of their head that something was going on between Clara and the "Caretaker."

The kids nodded and went back to their reading. Clara let out a relieved sigh and went to her desk at the back of the classroom.

She was tired from walking through the labyrinthine tunnels of the cave, and then running away from the killer bat. A little rest would do her good.

She had just sat down and gotten comfortable when the bell rang.

Suddenly she remembered that it was the end of the school day; the end of a Friday, at that. She could head home and take a nap.

She stood and saw that the students were gathering their books and everything.

"Finish your reading this weekend. Next week we start William Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_," she reminded them.

The students grumbled and funneled out of the classroom.

Within seconds she was completely alone.

With a contented sigh, Clara grabbed her leather jacket and handbag and flipping the light switch, locked the door behind her.

* * *

The Doctor looked around the empty TARDIS.

He loved the life he led. Travelling through time and space, saving people and righting wrongs, not to mention having a great time, but he did get lonely, though he was loath to admit it.

He enjoyed Clara's company, but she didn't stay with him full time, so he was alone a lot. Most of his previous companions had stayed by his side day in and day out, and he had been more than happy for a little reprieve now and then.

Calling Clara was always an option, but in her time, he had left her less than a day before. He suspected that she would not be too thrilled about going on another adventure quite so soon. Clara was adamant about living her normal life as a teacher at Coal Hill, and why shouldn't she? She'd worked hard to become a teacher; she shouldn't let it go to waste.

The Doctor sighed. He wouldn't start talking to himself again. Part of life was being on your own sometimes. For a few centuries after Amy Pond and Rory Williams had been lost, he'd parked the TARDIS on top of a cloud overlooking Victorian London. He'd stopped helping People and avoided contact with everyone except the Paternoster Gang: a Silurian woman called Madame Vastra, her maid/wife Jenny Flint, and a rehabilitated Sontaran foot soldier called Strax.

That had all changed when the Doctor met Clara, or rather an echo of Clara. In the future, to save the Doctor, Clara had run into the Doctor's time stream, scattering echoes of herself throughout his timeline. An echo of Clara had convinced the First Doctor to steal the TARDIS he had now, not the one he was going to take; his Eleventh incarnation also encountered a woman named Oswin who turned out to be a Dalek in denial. She'd died saving him.

"I'll call her," he decided, nodding emphatically. He crossed the spacious control room and opened the TARDIS doors. He reached into the side panel and pulled out the old phone. He punched in the number for Clara's mobile. He knew it by heart.

Before had finished putting the numbers in, her heard Clara's voice saying, "Hello?"

"Clara?"

"Who else calls you?" Clara jested.

"Lots of people," the Doctor replied, hardening his voice so Clara wouldn't know that he had called her.

"Anyway, I'm calling cos I was sitting here doing my lesson plan for next week…"

Wait. Clara had called him? She must have been calling as he picked up the phone.

"What are you teaching?" the Doctor asked, mildly interested.

"The class is reading _Julius Caesar_ by Shakespeare."

"Oh, Shakespeare. A dreadful man." The Doctor scowled. His Tenth incarnation had encountered Shakespeare and had been excited to meet the genius. However, his current incarnation did not share that appreciation.

"You know him? Of course you do."

"He was a self-pitying drunk."

"Course was he. Anyway, I was thinking…"

"Yes?" the Doctor implored.

"I'm not that good at history, but I thought maybe we could pop back and meet the old bastard."

"I am not going anywhere near Shakespeare!"

"No, not Shakespeare. Caesar."

"Caesar."

"Yes, Caesar. Julius Caesar. Have you even been listening to me?"

"I'm sorry, Clara, you know I don't really have the patience nor the attention span to listen to other people blather on."

'Fair enough. So will you help me. Please?"

The Doctor could practically hear Clara jutting her bottom lip out in a classic pout.

"I don't know, Clara, I was planning of visiting the red sand planet."

"Come on, Doctor. Please? It's for my class."

The Doctor hid a mischievous grin behind his hand even though Clara wouldn't be able to see it.

"Doctor?"

"All right, Clara. I'll pop by and pick you up and we'll be on our way."

"Thank you!"

The Doctor hung up and returned the phone to its compartment.

With the flick of few switches on the TARDIS console, the engines started groaning and wheezing.

As soon as the engines were silent again, the door opened and Clara walked in.

"Hiya!" she said, all smiles.

"Hi." The Doctor's lips tugged upward.

"So, what's he like?" Clara asked, approaching the console, where the Doctor leaned casually.

"Who?" The eyebrows drew together.

"Julius Caesar," Clara replied, chuckling. "Where's your head?

"I'm a bit distracted," the Doctor confessed. "And no."

"Seriously? You've never met him?"

"No. I met Nero once…."

"Finally, someone you haven't met!"

"I know. it's rare."

"It'll be an interesting adventure for both of us, then."

"Always then. When do you want to go? When he was young? Want to see what shaped him into the dictator that he was? "

"I want to meet him at the end, when the play takes place. I want to know what really happened. Shakespeare wasn't there, so I'm assuming he made up a lot of it."

"Willy was always did have an overactive imagination."

"I'm not even going to ask."

"The end it is," the Doctor said, pulling a lever with a flourish. "Rome, 13, March 44 B.C."

"You're the best!"

Clara leaned in and kissed the Doctor on the cheek.

"I'll appreciate it if you don't do that again."

Despite his words, the Doctor wasn't mad. He wasn't big on affection in this incarnation, though he was starting to get accustomed to hugs.

"I'm going to pop down to the wardrobe," Clara announced, turning on her heel.

"What for?"

"Well, I can't meet Caesar dressed like this, can I?" Clara motioned to her outfit. A red skirt with polka dots, leggings, boots, and a leather jacket.

"I guess you're right," the Doctor conceded.

"You might want to think of a change of costume yourself."

"I'll stay in this."

"All right, if you want to meet a historical figure looking like a magician, be my guest."

"Ha ha," the Doctor said emotionlessly.

In no time at all, Clara reappeared wearing an ankle-length tunic of a deep violet color with a lavender colored palla around her shoulders. Her dark brown hair hung loose about her shoulders, curled into tight ringlets.

"Do I look like al Roman woman?" she asked.

"As good as you're going to get," the Doctor replied.

Clara nodded and looped her arm through the Doctor's.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready."

Without another word, they stepped out into a brand new world.

* * *

Clara's favorite part about travelling with the Doctor was the excitement of stepping out of the TARDIS and into a new, exciting adventure; places and times she'd never dared dream to be able see in her life. She was very lucky.

The first thing she noticed was that they were in a side alley. People bustled by in the routine of their daily lives.

The Doctor locked the TARDIS door behind them, dropping the key into the pocket of his jacket.

"Let's hope we don't need that in a hurry," Clara said, shaking her head and laughing.

"Remind me to get you one," the Doctor replied, looking past Clara at the people walking past.

Nobody seemed to be perturbed by the fact that the Doctor and Clara had come out of a small wooden box. _Guess _Rome_ was pretty ac_curate, Clara thought.

"Let's see…." The Doctor looked to and fro, his eyes scanning their surroundings at a rapid pace that would make any normal person dizzy.

"Do you reckon Caesar will out in this throng?" Clara asked.

"Come on, Clara, he was the Hitler of this era, do you think he'll put himself out in the open where any of his enemies could assassinate him?" the Doctor challenged.

"Unless Shakespeare completely made it up, Caesar was assassinated," Clara pointed out.

"Those were his friends and colleagues."

"Guess no one is safe."

Clara waited for an opening in the crowd and started walking. Silently, the Doctor followed.

They passed stands full of a plethora of goods: fruit and vegetables, jewelry, meat, clothing, swords, tools, anything possible

Clara knew better than to even bother looking. She didn't have any of the local currency and it was pointless asking the Doctor; he never carried money on him. She could do without,

They walked fo1r a while, just talking it all in. The stall owners kept heckling them, trying them to buy their wares, but they kept walking.

Eventually, the market thinned out and they found themselves in the center of town.

"There's the Senate house."

The Doctor pointed to a tall building in the distance that looked like it was made of brick. At every angle, large buttresses reinforced the massive walls.

"The Curia Julia."

"The what?" Clara inquired.

"It means senate house in Latin," the Doctor extrapolated.

"I didn't know you were fluent Latin," Clara mused.

"I'm fluent in every language, Clara."

"Show off."

"Wait here, I'm going to go loo."

"If you're not back in five minutes, I'm coming after you," Clara crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm quaking in my wellies."

The Doctor crossed the street and disappeared around the corner.

Clara shuffled her feet, blowing air out of her cheeks. She couldn't just stand here and wait for the Doctor, it wasn't in her nature. Plus, she was so excited to be on an adventure that she couldn't stand still.

"Sorry, Doctor," Clara muttered, decided to continue walking down the narrow street.

She was so busy staring at the surrounding that she didn't notice people coming out of a side avenue. Clara bumped into someone.

The girl fell to the floor, air rushing out of her lungs as she made impact.

"I am so sorry!" Clara exclaimed, kneeling to help the girl up.

She couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen. She was bone thin with torn, ragged skirts on. Her face, though full with youth, was hollow around the cheeks. Her black hair was a tangled mess around her bosom. Dirt covered her face and all the skin that was visible.

"Are you all right?" Clara asked holding onto to the girl's arms.

"I'm well," the girl replied hurriedly

"I'm Clara." Clara smiled invitingly at her.

The girl was quiet for a few seconds and then finally said, "Veronica."

"That's a lovely name, Veronica."

"It is the name my mother gave me."

"Is she around, your mum?"

"She died many years ago."

Veronica hardened her jaw. Apparently the loss of her mother still weighed heavily on her. Clara understood completely. She'd lost her mum when she was young, too. Not a day went by that she didn't her good old mum.

"I lost my mum, too," Clara supplied, hoping to bridge the gap between herself and this strange girl that avoided looking into her eyes.

When the girl didn't say anything, Clara put her arm around her. "Say, Veronica, do you by chance know a man called Julius Caesar?"

Veronica's whole body stiffened and Clara instinctively removed her arm from around Veronica,

"What's wrong?" Clara asked, knitting her brows in confusion. She knew that Caesar wasn't exactly the Mahatma Ghandi of ancient Rome, but was he really that bad? She'd always been rubbish at history when she was in school She'd barely passed her history GCSE.

Before Veronica could answer Clara's question, a familiar gruff voice shouted, "Clara!"

Clara whipped around. The Doctor was walking toward her. No, not walking. Stalking. His features were pinched, his eyebrows ready to do battle. His eyes burned so intensely that even from meters away Clara could see the, clearly.

"I thought I told you to stay put!"

"I did…and then I ran into Veronica here," Clara said.

The Doctor noticed Veronica for the first time. "Oh.

"This is the Doctor," Clara introduced.

Veronica bowed gracefully but didn't say anything.

Clara leaned in toward the Doctor conspiratorially. "I asked her if she knows Caesar. She flinched."

"A common reaction, I'm sure."

"I have to go," Veronica muttered, turning to walk away.

"Hold on a minute," Clara called, following her.

Veronica slowed her pace, letting Clara catch her up.

"Is everything okay? Really?"

She studied Veronica's eyes closely to see if she would lie or not.

"Everything is as well as it can be, Mistress Clara," Veronica replied almost robotically.

"Just Clara," Clara corrected.

Veronica nodded.

"Well, if you need anything…."

Clara paused mid-sentence. It dawned on her that she didn't know where she and the Doctor would be staying. There was no way for Veronica to find her later if she needed help. There was one option, however.

"If you need to find me, look for the blue box. It's sort of wooden… It looks like a temple..thing."

"Thank you, Mistress. " Veronica bowed. "I regret that I really must be on my way. "

"Okay. Goodbye."

"Farewell."

Veronica ducked into the crowd and was gone in an instance, lost amongst the sea of people.

Clara tried to follow her, but gave up after a few seconds

"I'm gone for two minutes and you make a new friend," the Doctor said.

"I bumped into her accidentally. I figured I'd see if she knew where we could find Caesar."

"If he's going to be anywhere, he'll be at the Curia Julia."

I guess that's our next stop, then."

They started again toward the senate house.

"Doctor, that girl, Veronica…"

"What about her?"

"That's not Roman name, is it? I thought Romans were called Pandora and Caesarean."

"Pandora isn't Roman, it's Greek."

"You know what I mean."

"It's a Latin translation of the Greek name Berenice."

"Who needs Wikipedia when they have you?"

The Doctor laughed.

"What's a Greek girl doing in Rome?" Clara wondered aloud.

"Perhaps she was betrothed to a Roman or staying with distant relatives. Or…"

"Or?" Clara pressed.

"She could be a slave girl."

"Poor thing."

The thought had crossed Clara's mind, but she had hoped that was mistaken. No one deserved to be a slave.

"It's the way of life for this time," the Doctor pointed out.

"Doesn't make it right."

"We can't right every wrong, Clara."

"I know."

"But it's nice that want to try."

Clara smiled up at him.

Suddenly, a shriek tore through the air.

"Was that?"

"Mmmmhm."

"Let's "

They took off at a run toward the senate house.

* * *

Julius Caesar stood before the other Senators.

They had been hard at work all day debating new laws, punishments, and military funding. It had been a long day.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, where a a dull pain had started a few minutes ago. It was slowly growing in intensity, which would culminate into one of his blinding headaches. _I'll have a goat sacrificed to appease the gods,_ he thought_._

Gauis Cassius Longinus one of the senators was droning on and on about something, but Caesar could not pay attention. The throbbing in his head was all he could focus on.

Caesar had been having the aches since he was a child, but they had been less intense back then. The aches in head had been coming more often of late. They left him feeling drained and exhausted. He was not a young man anymore, and it was taking him longer to recover.

"Are you all right, Caesar?" his close friend, Marcus Junius Brutus asked, leaning in.

"One of my aches," Caesar replied, careful to keep his voice low.

'Shall I escort you home?"

"No need. I'll walk myself."

"But, Caesar, there are enemies everywhere nowadays. If you go unarmed…"

"Let them kill me, Brutus. It would be a nice reprieve from this pain in my head."

Without another word, Caesar rose and started to walk toward the exit of the senate house. He could not sit here and listen to this anymore. He needed to go home, take some chamomile and rest. His wife, Calpurnia would see that he was well taken care of.

After a few steps, the room started to spin. Caesar reached out to steady himself, but found that nothing was there. He felt his knees buckle and his weight shift. The cold floor felt nice under his hot cheeks.

By the time he'd registered that he was on the floor, he was passed out.

"Assassins!" Brutus cried, rushing to his friend's side. He drew his o sword, ready to attack.

On the floor, Caesar started to flail his body about, saliva dripping out lof his mouth.

"Get help!" one of the senators cried.

"Fetch a doctor," said another.

The doors burst open and an old man in strange clothes came in, followed closely by a pretty young girl in fine Roman livery.

"I heard a scream!" the old man said. His accent was strange, not of this realm. It wasn't from Gaul. Perhaps the man was a Celt?

"Caesar fell," Brutus replied, eying the newcomer with suspicion.

Caesar had been suffering these attacks for quite a while now. Brutus had long suspected that someone was poisoning Caesar's food and drink. Caesar's enemies were countless.

The old man looked at Caesar thrashing about on the floor.

"Hold him down!" he commanded. "Don't let him throw himself about like that! He'll hurt himself!"

When Brutus made no move to do as the old man said, he did it himself. He grabbed Caesar's top half, while his female companion grabbed Caesar's legs.

Caesar continued to writhe for another minute or so, but then, thankfully, he grew still, a groan escaping his lips.

The old man looked up at the circle of white clad senators surrounding him.

"He was having a seizure," he explained.

"A what?" one of the senators asked.

"Epilepsy," the Doctor tried.

He was met with blank stared.

"His brain had abnormal electrical brain activity. It makes the body convulse."

"Are you a Doctor?" Brutus asked.

"Yes."

"Is someone poisoning his food and drink? He's been having these massive headaches for a while. They're usually succeeded by these….convulsions." Brutus' tone was quiet, so the other senators could not hear.

"No," the old man replied. "He has a medical condition called epilepsy. This isn't another assassination attempt."

Brutus nodded, but wasn't sure if he trusted this outlander or not. For all he knew, this man could be poisoning Caesar and pretending to be a doctor so no suspicion would fall on him.

"The next time he has one of these episodes, hold him down, or at least try to roll him onto his side. If he vomits, he could choke on it. Same goes for his tongue."

"I'll let Calpurnia know."

"I'm the Doctor, by the way."

"And I'm Clara." The girl spoke for the first time. Her accent was more identifiable. Britannia.

"Marcus Junius Brutus," Brutus replied."

The girl, Clara, beamed with wide grin. "It's him," she whispered to the Doctor.

"Sorry?" Brutus asked.

Clara cleared her throat."

"Brutus is an honorable man. His reputation is well known throughout the modern world," she said.

Brutus seemed to like this answer. He puffed out his chest a bit.

"We need to get him somewhere safe," the Doctor said, interrupting their moment.

"I can escort him home," Brutus offered.

"Who's going to stay here and keep an ear out of any insurrection in the senate?"

Brutus blinked. The Doctor had a point. If walked Caesar home, who would stay here to make sure everything went as Caesar planned? Conversely, what if the Doctor was an assassin and was just trying to get Caesar away from Brutus so could kill him?

"How do I know you're not an assassin?" Brutus challenged.

"I just saved his life," the Doctor pointed out. "If I wanted to kill him, I would have just let him thrash about until he did himself in."

Brutus hated to admit it, but the Doctor had a point. He could have easily let Caesar die right there on the floor.

"All right," he relented. "Do you know where he lives?"

The Doctor and Clara shook their heads.

Brutus gave them quick directions. Caesar only lived across town.

Just as Brutus was finishing his directions, Caesar started to stir.

He moaned quietly and cracked his eyes open.

"Where…?" His voice was weak and raspy.

"The senate house, Caesar," Brutus informed him. "You had another of your spells."

"Damn."

"This man saved your life. He's called…What is your name?"

"Just the Doctor."

"The Doctor…"

Brutus went and stood beside the Doctor, showing him off.

Caesar looked him up and down momentarily before saying anything.

"Gratitude," he finally said.

"No problem," the Doctor replied, clenching his teeth.

"Your accent I've not heard one like that before," Caesar confessed.

"He's Scottish," Clara interjected.

Caesar glanced at her and his eyes widened.

"And you are?"

"Clara. Clara Oswald."

Caesar's cheeks turned red and he reached up for Clara's hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine!" Clara assured him, laughing.

"No flirting," the Doctor hissed in her ear. "He's married."

"I have read the play," Clara reminded him before focusing her mega-watt smile back on Caesar.

"I need to go home and rest," Caesar said to Clara. "Would you care to escort me?"

"We'd love to."

Caesar looked between the Doctor and Clara.

"I do hope that I am not encroaching on your territory, Doctor," he said.

"What? No. We're not married. Not dating. Just friends!" Clara burst out.

"Good."

A wicked gleam let up his Caesar's eyes as he got to his feet with the help of Brutus.

The Doctor leaned in toward Clara.

"What are you doing?

"He fancies me. He'll be more likely to talk to us if we keep him happy," Clara explained.

The Doctor sighed, but knew better than try to deter Clara once she'd made up her mind about something.

Caesar held his arm out to Clara, and she obligingly slipped her arm through his.

"Clara could give me gray hair if I didn't already have it," the Doctor muttered under his breath.

He sighed loudly and then followed Caesar and Clara out of the senate house.

* * *

Brutus waited until Caesar was gone before turning to the twenty or so senators still gathered.

"See?" he said to them. "The fainting spell after Mark Antony offered him the crown was not an act. That Doctor knew of the condition. He knew how to bring him out of it."

"Who says this Doctor isn't in Caesar's pocket?" one of the Senators, Cassius, said.

"Don't find it queer that the only person who knows his condition is a total stranger to all of us?" Another senator, Publius Servilius Casca Longus, added.

Brutus shook his head emphatically. For months now, the conspirators had been trying to get him to help them put a stop to Caesar. They felt that he was getting too powerful, and if he accepted the role of Emperor of Rome, they'd all be doomed to suffer at his hands.

Brutus had known Caesar for many years and had never known him to be a cruel man. He was man just like everyone else. He had his ambitions, sure, but that didn't make him evil.

"I cannot join you. He's my friend," Brutus said, looking down at his sandaled feet.

"I know he's been good to you, Brutus. Because of that, you feel you have to be loyal to him, but your affections for him are blinding you to the truth. He must be stopped!" Cassius implored.

"I won't be party to this….blasphemy."

"What has he promised you? A position at his side? A special title? Glory? Is he going to appoint you Emperor of Gaul?"

"He has promised me nothing other than his friendship," Brutus said, his voice hardening in anger. "I will not betray him."

Cassius clenched his jaw.

"All right, Brutus. If you don't want to join us, fine, you don't have to. But stay out of our way. It's happening at the Senate meeting tomorrow on the Ides of March. Don't be there."

Brutus didn't say anything.

"And if you try to stop us, you'll be sorry. We're more powerful than you can imagine."

Cassius' eyes suddenly glowed red.

Brutus backed up, reaching for his sword.

Cassius laughed maniacally.

"Do you think a sword can hurt me, boy?"

With a flick of his finger, Brutus's sword flew across the Senate room and wedged itself into a wall.

The other senators turned to face Brutus. Their eyes glowed as red as Cassius'. So whatever had gotten Cassius had gotten them all.

"What-What are you?" Brutus demanded. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. What sort of demon had possessed Cassius and the others?

"That's no concern of yours, human scum. Nor is it our concern if your precious Caesar becomes Emperor."

"Then what do you want?"

Brutus quickly checked all the exits. There was nobody behind him. If necessary, he could make a mad dash for the door and hope that the whatever they were didn't pray on him before he could warn Caesar.

"We don't want your friend," the Cassius creature said. "We want was resides inside of him."

"Inside of him?"

What were they talking about? What did Caesar have inside of him that could be of interest to anyone else?

"He has a…guest inside his body. A guest that we are keen to destroy. "

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Cassius cleared his throat.

"There is a creature living inside of Caesar. In his brain to be more specific. That's why he's having the headaches and convulsions. It's nearing the end of its life cycle and it's taking your friend with it. If you really care about him, you'll help us destroy it."

"If we destroy it….will he be all right? Will be healthy again?"

Cassius lips curled into a leer.

"Of course, sweet Brutus. Bring him to us here on the Ides of March. We'll take care of the invader inside of him, and you'll have your friend back.

Brutus' mind was reeling. This was far too much for him to comprehend. He was a soldier, not a scholar. These creatures were otherworldly; demons from the five layers of the underworld.

Caesar needed his help. If this creature residing in his head was killing him, he was close to dying. His constant headaches and fits of convulsions was a clear indicator of that. Brutus couldn't let his old friend die. Not if there was something he could to help.

But could he trust these creatures? Glowing red eyes were a sure sign of evil. Evil forces weren't usually known to be honest or trustworthy. Was he willing to risk his friend's life, though?

Brutus set his jaw, looking the Cassius that was inhabiting Cassius' body directly in its scarlet eyes.

"That won you over didn't it?"

The creature's voice was like oil on water. It left Brutus with an odd sensation in his bowels.

"The Ides of March?" Brutus asked.

"The Ides of March."

Brutus nodded, squaring his shoulders in a display of false bravado.

"I'll consider it."

The wicked sneer on Cassius' face vanished, leaving his features pulled back in anger.

"Don't think about it too long. If you don't help us, we'll go after him ourselves. You'll be our next target. Then we'll destroy this world."

Brutus swallowed past the lump in his throat. He had seen a lot of action on the battlefield in his life as a soldier, and he had never ever, not once been as afraid as he was of these creatures. There was an innate iniquitousness about them, as if they didn't have a trace of good in them at all.

He turned and heart in his throat, made his way of the Senate House. As he passed his sword, he yanked it out the wall and returned it to its sheath.

His heart didn't stop hammering until he was safely outside.

* * *

The Doctor, Clara, and Caesar were met in the courtyard by his wife, Calpurnia.

She was a young woman, definitely younger than Caesar. Although he was only fifty-five, he looked a lot older. His face, probably once thin and unlined, was now pudgy and saggy with age and stress. There were bags under his eyes that seemed to droop down to his nose.

Conversely, Calpurnia was fresh faced, with a thin aquiline nose and big blue eyes. Her hair was a honey blonde color and she wore it up and adorned with ornate hairpins and jewels. Her pretty face was lined with worry.

"Husband," she cried, throwing her arms around him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Calpurnia," Caesar lied.

Surely word of his episode at the Senate House had not reached his troubled wife?

"I had a premonition." She eyed him, checking him over from top to bottom. "You had another of your fits, didn't you?"

Caesar didn't even need to respond. Calpurnia already knew.

He hadn't known when he'd married her that she possessed the gift of prophecy. Everything she had predicted in the past had come true.

"I see doom, gentle husband. I had a dream last night. In the dream, a statue of you was bleeding. I'm sure it means your death."

"It might have just been an effect of too much wine."

"I know the difference between a premonition and a regular dream, Julius. I implore you, don't keep putting yourself in danger like you do. Pompey's supporters are everywhere in Rome. Your enemies are greater than your supporters. You cannot trust anyone."

At this, she noticed the Doctor and Clara standing a few feet away, waiting for a chance to introduce themselves.

Caesar followed her gaze. He had intended to introduce them, but Calpurnia had been so upset about her premonition, he hadn't gotten the chance.

"Calpurnia, these are my new friends. The Doctor and Clara."

The Doctor nodded his hello.

"Hiya," Clara said, waving.

"They saved my life, so Brutus told me," Caesar explained.

Calpurnia was silent for a moment, and then a small smile lit up her face.

"In that case, you have my gratitude, friends."

"Don't mention it," Clara replied, taking charge.

"It's what we do," the Doctor agreed.

"You have done us a great honor," Calpurnia continued. "Surely you will let us honor you by offering you hospitality."

"Gratitude."

"You are not from around here."

It wasn't a question. Calpurnia was very perceptive.

"No, we're not," the Doctor confessed.

"What brings you to Rome?"

"Calpurnia, perhaps our guests would like to rest from their journey before you interrogate them," Caesar suggested gently, yet forcibly.

Calpurnia nodded, wringing her hands.

"You are right. I am being rude. Will you not please come inside and rest? Refreshments are being made."

"Gratitude." Clara smiled warmly.

They followed Calpurnia out of the sun and into the shade of the house.

It was spacious, with potted plants placed in strategic points throughout the main room. Everything was neat and tidy, not a speck of dust could be seen. Either Calpurnia took her wifely duties seriously, or they had a good maid.

Caesar and the Doctor kept walking, leaving Clara and Calpurnia alone in the room.

"You have lovely home," Clara supplied politely.

"Thank you." Calpurnia smiled. "I wish I could say that I did it myself, but I have help."

"Nothing to be ashamed of. Do you have children?"

Calpurnia's smile turned into a frown, making her look older than her years.

"The gods have not blessed our union with children."

"I'm so sorry. I'm a teacher, trust me, they're a lot to handle most of the time."

"That's what I hear. Not that I have many friends."

"Why not?"

"Word of mouth."

"Your premonitions."

"They think I'm crazy."

"I've been accused of that a time or two myself," Clara said with a laugh.

"It troubles me that Julius will not heed my warnings. I know in my very soul that my premonitions are just that. I have never been wrong."

"Typical man, isn't he? They never listen."

"I take the Doctor doesn't listen to you?"

"I don't give him much choice." Clara's grin was mischievous.

"You are a devil of woman!" Calpurnia said affectionately.

"Growing up, my mum always told me that letting a man control you is one of the worst things you can do. You're in charge of your own life."

"Such radical ideas! Perhaps that is how things are done where you come from."

A servant girl came into the room with a tray of drinks. When Clara looked at her, she started. The girl did the same.

"Veronica?"

Clara's mouth dropped open. What were the chances of running into the girl again? In Julius Caesar's home of all places?

Clara had learned during her time with the Doctor that there was no such thing as coincidence. There was a meaning behind everything that happened and everything that they encountered.

"Do you two know each other?" Calpurnia asked, looking between her guest and her servant.

"We ran into each other on the street earlier. I wasn't watching where I was walking. I hope I didn't cause any delay."

"Not at all," Calpurnia assured her, taking a goblet from Veronica's hand.

"Good."

Clara accepted the other goblet.

Veronica turned and left the room without a word.

"Not much of a talker is she?" Clara inquired.

"Veronica? No. She never has said much. I have tried to engage her in conversation of numerous occasions. We bought her three years ago, you would think she would be comfortable with us by now."

"Is she a slave?"

'I don't believe in slavery." Calpurnia scowled in disgust. "Such a barbaric practice. Yes, Veronica is a servant, but she is treated well. She is well fed …rather, she would be if she would eat any of the food we provide her."

"Maybe she's homesick,' Clara suggested. "She's Greek, am I right?"

"I have no idea where she came from. We purchased her from a trader here in Rome. He provides a wide selection of slaves from all over the known world."

"Do you mind if try talking to her?"

"Be my guest." Calpurnia shrugged. "As you said, she is a taciturn girl."

"I'm up to the challenge."

"I have to go check on Julius anyway. If there is anything we can do for you, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you."

"Sorry?"

Clara chewed her lip. Had she just introduced the words thank you into the vernacular? _Damn! The Doctor is going to kill me,_ she thought.

"It's what we say back home instead of gratitude," Clara confessed.

Calpurnia seemed to accept this as she nodded.

She nodded and left Clara to her task.

Clara waited until Calpurnia was out of the room before she followed the way that Veronica had departed minutes before.

"Veronica?" she called, looking left and right.

Veronica appeared from around the corner.

"It's me, Clara from earlier. I just wanted to check in with you. You know? Make sure that you're all right."

"I am fine," Veronica replied simply.

"I'm glad to hear it." Clara sighed. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm very interested in you."

"You want to buy me?" Veronica asked, her brow knit in confusion.

"No! No. Not like that. I don't have slaves. I'm interested in you as a person."

Veronica stared at her blankly. Apparently she had never heard that one before.

"Will you tell me about yourself?"

"I'm a servant of the great Julius Caesar."

Clara shook her head.

"No. Tell me about yourself. Where are from? How did end up…" she motioned around here, "here?"

Veronica shifted her feet nervously.

'It's okay, you can trust me."

Veronica chewed her lip for a second before starting her tale.

"I was born in Greece. My father was a butcher. My mother died in child birth. My father died when our village was raided by a warlord. My sister and I were captured and sold to a slave trader."

"Where is your sister?" Clara asked.

"She died not long after we were captured. She refused to give herself to the slave trader, so he killed her."

"That's horrible! I'm so sorry!"

Clara put a comforting arm around the girl. She flinched again, but not as noticeably this time.

"I survived and ended up here."

"So you're on your own. No family. No friends."

"Yes."

"You have me," Clara insisted. "I'm your friend."

Veronica felt a weird sensation inside of her. It was almost as if a light was shining upon her, warming her from within. For the first time since her life had gone awry, she found herself smiling,

"Do you like it here, in Rome I mean?"

"This is not the life I would have chosen for myself were the choice mine."

"What would you choose?"

Veronica's eyes lit up.

"I always wanted to travel the world. See other regions and cultures. I wanted more out of my life that just being someone's wife. Cleaning house and raising children."

"I have those same dreams. And you know what? They came true. That's what the Doctor and I do. We travel. I have seen so many things you would not believe."

"Sounds wonderful."

"It is."

Clara took a deep breath.

"Veronica, when I asked you earlier if you knew Julius Caesar, you stiffened. It was almost like you were afraid of him. Why is that?"

Veronica looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was there.

"Calpurnia's off with Caesar," Clara assured her. "We're alone."

Veronica stared at the floor.

"What is it?" Clara pressed.

"You will think I am mad if I tell you."

"No, I won't." Clara moved closer and took Veronica's hand in hers, squeezing it tightly for reassurance. "Tell me."

She steered Veronica over to a couple of chairs, and the two sat.

Veronica took another deep, steadying breath.

"I have heard things," she murmured quietly.

"Things?" Clara encouraged.

"In the night. There is something amiss in Caesar. He is not a bad man, I know he is not. But I can feel it. I can feel something…inside of him."

"Inside of him?"

"Another being. An entity. It is not of this world."

Clara's interest was automatically piqued. Julius Caesar was inhabited by an alien entity? Why not?

The Doctor would probably kill her for revealing their true identities to the Veronica, but with aliens running about, she had no choice.

"Do you remember when I said that the Doctor I travel?"

"Yes."

"I know this is going to be a lot to handle, believe me, I've been there. What I really meant was that we travel through time in space."

She paused for a second to gauge Veronica's reaction. To her credit, Veronica's face was impassive

"And I'm from the future."

Again, Veronica didn't react.

"I knew it," Veronica said finally.

"How?"

'I just could. I have always been able to…sense things. At first, I thought I was like Calpurnia and had the visions, but it is different. I do not foresee things. I just know them."

"We have to tell the Doctor what you know. He can fix this. He can save Caesar."

"Save him, from what?"

Clara inhaled sharply.

"Being assassinated," she replied.

* * *

The doctor was led into the bedroom by Caesar, who moved slowly.

He had been to Rome a few times over the course of his journeys, and he had never particularly cared for it. Or had he? This incarnation had such strong, contrasting opinions to things that he couldn't remember if it was his opinion or this incarnation's.

"Are you feeling any better?" the Doctor asked, helping Caesar sit on the edge of his water bed.

Caesar groaned and rubbed his temples.

"Do you feel another migraine coming on?"

"Yes."

The Doctor leaned down so his face was level with Caesar's. He placed both hands on Caesar's head – one on each side.

"May I?" he queried.

"If it will help ease the pain," Caesar moaned.

The Doctor leaned in so that his forehead was touching Caesar's and he closed his eyes. Focusing all of his energy on entering Caesar's mind, he shut the outside world out.

Caesar resisted at first, but he was too weak, and the Doctor found himself inside.

The pain lanced through his head, and almost let go – breaking the connection – but he held fast.

The searing pain was like a white flash in his eyes, blinding him.

"Can you feel it, Doctor?" Caesar asked.

"It's ghastly!"

The Doctor concentrated harder and pushed past the pain. He couldn't see anything inside Caesar's head, but he could hear a whisper that was not Caesar's.

"_Dying_!"the voice cried.

"Who are you?" the Doctor interrogated.

"Who are you talking to?" Caesar bid.

"Shut up!" the Doctor snapped. "Who are you?" he asked again.

"_Help me! I'm dyi_ng."

"How can I help you?"

"_Free me!"_

"How?"

"_Kil_l _the host!"_

The Doctor's eyes shot open. What? Had he heard the voice right? Kill the host?

"What's wrong?" Caesar's eyes were wide with panic.

"There's something in your brain," the Doctor replied shortly.

"What?"

Without answering, the Doctor whipped his sonic screwdriver out of his jacket pocket and activated it, circling Caesar's head."

"What is that?"

Caesar's head was bathed in a sweet green glow from the sonic.

"It's my sonic probe."

"Sonic probe?"

The Doctor checked the sonic for any readings. Nothing.

"I need to go back in."

"I want answers, Doctor."

"Later, I promise."

Not waiting for permission, the Doctor put his hands on either side of Caesar's head again and entered his mind.

Through the pain, he heard the voice again.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

_"He_l_p me! Kill the host!"_

"Not until you tell me what you are."

_"Larx!"_

The Doctor broke the connection again.

Larx. That wasn't good. Not good at all.

Caesar stared at him imploringly

"Doctor?" he encouraged.

"You have an alien parasite in your brain that is slowly killing you."

Caesar's jaw dropped.

"Before you ask, no, I can't remove it. If I remove it while you're alive, it'll kill you."

"How did it get there?"

"I was just going to ask you the same question. I've encountered the Larx before, a long, long time ago. They look like tapeworms."

"What are tapeworms?"

"They're worms that get inside your body, generally through meat."

"How did it get in my brain, then?"

"That's what I want to know. Have you ever had an encounter with an alien?"

"What's an alien?"

"Scary creatures from outer space, they're usually green or blue or gray."

"Not that I can recall."

"There must be something!"

"When did the headaches start?"

"When I was a boy."

"Did anything peculiar happen just before the headaches started?

Caesar's eyes glossed over as he contemplated the question. The Doctor watched him, eyebrows twitching.

"Come on, man! Time is of the essence."

Caesar's eyes popped open.

"Well?" The Doctor was in his face.

"I just recalled something."

"And?"

Caesar shifted on the bed so that he was comfortable.

"When I was a boy, I was trying to sleep one summer night, but it was so hot that all I did was toss and turn. I finally got bored and snuck outside to try to catch the breeze. I remember it vividly. It was a clear night; the stars were shining so bright. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"I remember staring up at the sky in wonder, when, suddenly, I saw a start falling through the sky. I thought it would sail right over me, but it was getting bigger and bigger the closer it got. It was almost as if it was after me.

"I ran, and it was hot on my heels. I heard a loud crashing sound and was thrown into the air. After a few seconds, I scrambled to my feet and saw a huge crater in the dirt where the star had crashed. I leaned over it to peer inside and my hand accidentally touched the dirt. It burned me."

Caesar held up his hand, where the faint scars from the burn still lingered.

"What happened next?" the Doctor asked.

"That's the last thing I remember. The next thing I remember was waking up in the morning next to the crater."

"With a headache?"

"With a headache."

"The Larx was in the 'falling star.' It cannot exist without a host, it's like a parasite. It must have been in stasis, and the collision awoke it. You were there and it latched onto you, worked its way to your brain. By now, it must be deeply embedded in your brain stem.

"If it was a fresh attachment, I could remove it, but it's been there too long. Even if I could remove it, your brain has sustained too much damage. That's why the headaches are occurring more frequently. And the seizures, they're an effect of the damage done the Larx. I'm surprised you've survived this long. They eat brain matter at an incredible rate, by all rights, you should be dead."

The door burst open and Clara and Veronica rushed in.

"Doctor! There's something in his brain!" Clara said heatedly. "Tell him, Veronica."

"There's no need."

The Doctor rose and held up his hand.

"What do you mean?"

"I already know, Clara."

"Oh."

Clara's face fell with disappointment. She liked to be the one to solve the problem.

"How did Veronica know?"

"She has a sixth sense."

"Oh."

"So, what are we going to do? How do we stop this creature?"

"Clara."

That one word spoke volumes. Clara knew by the tone of the Doctor's voice that it was pointless. The damage was done.

Calpurnia appeared in the secondary doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks. Caesar spotted her first.

"Calpurnia, my love," he began.

"You must do something, Doctor," she begged, fixing her doe eyes on the Doctor. "Please. We will pay handsomely. You can have anything, just, please, bring my husband back to me.

She must have been listening in to their conversation. Apparently, she'd heard enough.

The Doctor felt his twin hearts break, the pain almost real.

"I am so sorry, Calpurnia, but I can't."

"But you're a doctor," she argued. "There must be something you can do."

"Like I said, if I remove the creature, it'll kill him."

"But he'll die if you keep it in?"

The Doctor nodded grimly.

"Oh, Jupiter," Calpurnia gasped, falling to her knees before her husband.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor repeated.

"Doctor." Clara grabbed him and pulled him out of the earshot of the others. 'There must be something you can do."

"There's not," the Doctor assured her.

"There's always something!" Clara replied vehemently.

"Clara, Caesar's death is a fixed point in time. Tomorrow, he will go to the Senate House and he will be assassinated. It must be."

Clara fought back tears, clenching her jaw.

"I know," she whispered.

The Doctor knew that Clara was thinking about Danny Pink. He'd been a fellow teacher at Coal Hill. He and Clara had fallen in love, but unfortunately, Danny had been killed in a car accident. Clara had tried to get the Doctor to go back in time and save him, but it was possible.

Missy, the new, female incarnation of the Doctor's old friend and Master, had resurrected the Earth's dead as Cybermen, Danny included. Danny's love for Clara had been too strong and he had been unable to follow order and kill her. Instead, he'd sacrificed himself to stop Missy.

"So, what do we do?" Clara's voice was husky. "Just get back in the TARDIS and go about life like nothing happened?"

The Doctor nodded, and Clara laughed bitterly.

"We should go say goodbye, then."

She spun on her heel and rejoined the others

The Doctor followed her. When he came into the room, everyone turned to look at him. This was his least favorite part.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Caesar. It is much appreciated. I regret, however, that Clara and I must be on our way."

"Thank you, Doctor," Caesar said tightly.

"I wish I could help you. I really do."

"I know." He sighed. "Tomorrow, I shall go to the Senate House and announce my resignation. If I have but little time left in this world, I want to spend it with my wife."

Calpurnia gave a half smile, kissing Caesar's cheek affectionately.

"We'll see each ourselves out," the Doctor concluded.

No one acknowledged him.

Clara gave both Caesar and Calpurnia a hug.

"Sorry," she said on her way out the door.

As they were leaving the house, Veronica passed them.

"We're leaving," Clara announced. "I hope everything works out for you."

"Gratitude," Veronica replied, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

It was silly. She had just met Clara a few hours earlier, she shouldn't be so attached.

With a quick hug, Clara joined the Doctor and headed back to the TARDIS.

* * *

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor was setting the coordinates for Clara's flat.

Clara came back up from the wardrobe, wearing her own clothes again.

He caught her eye and smiled grimly. She shook her head.

"I love travelling with you, Doctor, I really do. It's a whirlwind of excitement and danger and intrigue…but sometimes it leaves me feeling so…empty. That poor man is going to be assassinated tomorrow and we can't help him."

"The burden of the time traveler," the Doctor agreed.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Clara met the Doctor's gaze. He had suspected that this was coming.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

Clara stared at him intensely. Did she really want to give all of this up to go back to her lackluster life as a teacher? More importantly, could she?

She was opening her mouth to answer him when the TARDIS suddenly lurched, throwing them both against the center console.

"What's happening?" Clara cried, holding on for dear life.

"The TARDIS is taking control."

"She's doing what?"

"She's controlling where we go."

The TARDIS lurched and the engines grew quiet.

The Doctor Clara cautiously made their way to the TARDIS doors. Their hands met on the handle. Nodding, they worked together to open it.

"Are we…?" Clara started.

"I think so."

It looked like they were in exactly the same spot they had before getting into the TARDIS. How could that be?

They stepped out onto the street, frowning confusedly. Caesar's death was a fixed point in time, so why would the TARDIS refuse to let them leave?

There was a crowd again on the street, the same as there had been that morning, but something was different. The people weren't moving, they were standing stock still.

Not waiting for permission, Clara started to weave through the mass of people, pushing her way to the front.

"What's going on?" she asked the man next to her.

"Where have you been?"

"Back of the line."

"Caesar's funeral." The man's tone suggested that he thought Clara was

"What date is it?"

"16 March."

"Gratitude."

In front of the sea of people, Caesar's body was brought through on a carriage. He was wrapped up, so Clara couldn't tell if it was really him or not, but who else could it be?

The Doctor squeezed in next to her."

"Oi, watch it!" the man Clara had been talking to, complained.

"Shut up," the Doctor said with disinterest.

The man did as he was told.

"What's this, then?" the Doctor asked.

"It's Caesar's funeral."

The Doctor silently watched as the funeral procession passed them by, mourners throwing flower and gold coin pieces onto the wagon that carried Caesar's body.

"What happens to his assassins?" Clara asked.

"The Senate grants them amnesty."

"They get away with murdering him!?"

Clara scoffed in disgust. _Some things never change,_ she thought.

"Caesar's friend Marc Antony was the one who suggested it."

"Some friend."

"The conspirators said they did it for the good of Roman Empire."

"No wonder they die out."

A man walking past them stopped and did a double take.

"Doctor?" he shouted.

The Doctor looked up and recognized the man right away.

"Ah, Brutus."

He didn't know what else to say.

Brutus face was a twisted mask of anguish, and tears stained his cheeks.

"They lied to me, Doctor," Brutus said, guilt making his voice heavy.

"Who lied?" Clara inquired.

"The conspirators," Brutus replied.

"How did they lie?" the Doctor added.

"This is going to sound mad, but they were possessed by demons. Their eyes burned red as the fires of the underworld, and they told me if I did not deliver Caesar to them, they would kill me, and then destroy this world."

"What did they want with Caesar?"

"They didn't care about Caesar. They wanted the thing inside of him. I only joined in to end his suffering. They were torturing him, drawing it out as long as they could. I could not watch my friend suffer."

"Jailers!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"Explain," Clara ordered.

"The Larx was a prisoner, an escaped prisoner looking to hide. He crash-landed here and Caesar was the first person he saw."

"But if he knew he couldn't stay in Caesar forever, why didn't he leave before it was too late?" Clara wondered.

"He was drawn to Caesar's brain. The mind of a genius."

"We have to stop them before they hurt anyone else."

"Let's go."

"Let's."

The Doctor and Clara took off a sprint down the road

The Senate house was quiet when they got there. Regardless, they opened the doors and went inside.

Sure enough, the conspirators were gathered together. At the sound of the door opening, they turned as one, their eyes glowing bright red.

"Doctor," one of the creatures spoke. "I had a sneaking suspicion you'd be back."

"Just until I've dealt with you lot," the Doctor spit out. "You have one chance. Leave this planet in peace. Now."

The creatures inhabiting the bodies of the senators laughed in unison.

"How do you propose to stop us? You know as well as we do that if you remove us from our hosts, the hosts will die."

"Nice bluff," Clara smirking. "We all know that you haven't had sufficient time to fuse into the host's brain stems."

"Clever girl."

"The best."

"Leave," the Doctor said, stepping forward.

In response, the men lunged at him, circling him like a pack of jackals circling a rabbit.

"Doctor!" Clara called. "The sonic!"

The Doctor grinned and threw it over the men's heads to Clara. Before she could grab it, however, one of the men tackled her and knocked her to floor. The air rushed out of her lungs on the impact, and she lay on the hard floor, stunned.

A figure scooped up the sonic and pointed it at the creature hovering over Clara.

"Demon!" Veronica cried, squeezing the trigger on the screwdriver.

The instant the sonic went off, the creatures all froze, writhing in agony.

"Keep it going!" the Doctor cried, too busy to wonder how the girl had found them, and how she knew how to use the sonic.

Veronica pressed harder on the button and the shrill sound increased in pitch.

The possessed men all suddenly started crying black tears out of their eyes. The tears trailed out, looking like black snakes dripping out.

The black serpentine creatures landed on the floor and continued flinging themselves about.

The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass jar. Crouching down, he picked up the creatures and set them inside the jar and secured the lid.

"That'll keep them safe for now."

Clara coughed profusely, air rushing back into her lungs.

"Clara!"

The Doctor knelt down and helped her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'll be fine." Clara smiled. She shifted her attention to Veronica. "Veronica, how did you know we were here?"

"I could sense you."

"More importantly," the Doctor interrupted, "how did you know the sonic screwdriver would work? Much less how to use it?"

"I saw it in Clara's mind."

The Doctor and Clara exchanged curious glances. What was this mysterious sixth sense that Veronica possessed? Was she psychic? An empathy?

"Well, thank you for the help. We couldn't have done it without you," the Doctor said, shrugging it off. He'd encountered far stranger things over the course of his centuries of travel than a girl with an odd gift.

"What happens to them now?" Clara asked, nodding her head toward the unconscious senators splayed out of the floor.

"They'll wake up with a massive headache, but they'll live."

"I guess our job here is done, then."

"It's time we were on our way."

"I'll walk you back to your…temple," Veronica offered.

The Doctor shot Clara a curious look, but she waved it off.

* * *

Back at the TARDIS, the Doctor and Clara were preparing to leave.

Veronica stared at the blue box before her, trying to figure out how both the Doctor and Clara were going to fit in the small box.

"This is your ship?" she asked, running her hand across the rough wood.

"Yes," the Doctor replied patiently.

"You travel in it? Together?"

"Yes."

"Curious."

"It takes some getting used to," Clara sympathized.

"We should be going," the Doctor reminded her.

"Okay, Grumpy." Clara rolled her eyes and gave Veronica a tight hug.

"Take me with you!" Veronica blurted.

Clara looked at the Doctor curiously. Would he go for it? Could Veronica handle the disappointment if the Doctor said no?

Veronica did have nothing here for her. She had no family, no husband. She wasn't happy with her lot in life, and she had said that more than anything, she wanted travel.

The Doctor sized Veronica intensely for several seconds, clicking his tongue.

"She did save our lives," Clara reminded him, shooting Veronica a wink. "And you do need someone to keep you company when I'm not around. I can't be with you all the time."

The Doctor sighed. "All right, but there are rules. One: you bathe daily; two: no leaving your things lying around the TARDIS. I'm not a mind. And three…" he trailed off.

"Three?" Clara pressed.

"Three: you behave with the bravery you showed earlier. I can't stand screamers."

"I agree!" Veronica cried as soon as the Doctor finished speaking.

"All right, welcome aboard."

The Doctor opened the doors to the TARDIs. Clara and Veronica followed him in.

As soon as Veronica got a view of the vast control room, her eyes widened, her mouth hung open in shock. "How? It is…."

"It's bigger on the inside. Yes, yes, we can skip that bit," the Doctor grumbled.

"You'll get used to it," Clara assured her.

"What's your name again?" the Doctor asked.

"Veronica," she replied, awestruck.

"I don't like it." The Doctor frowned in disgust. 'Pick a new name."

"Doctor!" Clara gasped.

"I'm not having someone on board my TARDIS called Veronica," the Doctor insisted.

"It is fine." Veronica held up a placating hand. "I have always hated my name. I cannot think of another."

Clara tapped her fingers on the console as she thought of a name for their companion. Then it hit her.

"How about…Ronnie?" she suggested.

Veronica smiled. "I like it. It sounds…exotic."

"It is," Clara promised.

"It's settled, then." The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest. "That leaves just one question."

Clara blinked in confusion. What was he talking about?

"Do you want to home? Before, you said.."

Clara shook her head, moving closer toward the Doctor.

"I was upset. You should know by now not to listen to me when I'm in a mood."

"I'll remember that one." The Doctor laughed. "I'm glad you're staying, I have a present for you."

"A present?"

The Doctor set a small rectangular box on the console before Clara.

She picked it up, her hands hesitating to take off the lid.

"Go on," the Doctor encouraged.

Clara took the lid off and gasped.

Lying inside the box was Sharpie. But it wasn't just a regular Sharpie. It was a sonic Sharpie.

"Do you like it?" the Doctor asked.

"I love it!" Clara threw her arms around the Doctor and squeezed so tight that his eyes bulged out of his head and he started to turn purple.

Finally, she released him and tried the sonic Sharpie. The tip glowed purple.

"Thank you, Doctor."'

"It's my pleasure, Clara Oswald."

"I do have one last question."

"Of course."

"Shut up." Clara laughed. "What happened to Calpurnia after Caesar's death?"

"I don't know," the Doctor confessed. "All that's known is that she never remarried."

"Poor Calpurnia. She lost her husband and never had the child she wanted."

"Who knows? Just because history doesn't tell what happened, it doesn't mean she rotted away. What do you think happened?"

"I think she found love again and had a big family. I'll bet she lived to a ripe old age surrounded by her kids and grandkids."

"I bet that's what happened."

Clara smiled.

The Doctor started stressing buttons on the TARDIS console.

"Where are we going?"

The Doctor grabbed Ronnie's hand and stood back.

"Let' let Ronnie decide."

"Good idea."

Ronnie, swallowed nervously, and pressed a few buttons.

The TARDIS engines started groaning and wheezing.

* * *

Brutus and Calpurnia stood watching as the mysterious blue box that the Doctor, Clara, and Veronica had gone into started to fade before their eyes with an unholy sound.

As the box disappeared, Calpurnia looped her hand through Brutus's. He looked down at their intertwined hands and for the first time in a long time, he smiled.

© Gabriel Mero

* * *

**Next Time: The Doctor, Clara, and Ronnie visit the moon in the distant future, where a cult is making sacrifices to awaken their long-lost God.**


End file.
